


Exactly Where You Like Me

by FallOutFromGrace



Series: Close Encounters of a Favorable Kind [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: It’s not exactly fluff, M/M, gentle throat grabbing, idk man, its fluff to Deidara but y’know Not to normal people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallOutFromGrace/pseuds/FallOutFromGrace
Summary: ...under your thumb and waiting for more.———After that stormy night, Deidara spent most of his days continuing to seethe in his hatred of the Uchiha and pushing away any feelings that could suggest even the slightest thing otherwise. But when he finds himself alone with Itachi again, he’s forced to wonder if he really hates him as much as he tells himself he does.
Relationships: Deidara/Uchiha Itachi
Series: Close Encounters of a Favorable Kind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784404
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	Exactly Where You Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I’m back with another addition to my ItaDei series, except this one follows Dei’s perspective instead! It was very fun to write and explore how their interactions could have been if this weird little ship could have sailed~ Definitely not in a million years, but thats what fanfiction is for.
> 
> Thank you VERY much to my beta, PeachAndBetty, and the ItaSaku discord for offering me so much support, feedback, and overall just being awesome.
> 
> EDIT: changed to M just in case.

Life just had to be so _disgustingly_ easy for Uchiha Itachi.

The raven haired prodigy hardly had to utter a word to get what he wanted when he wanted it. To Deidara it always felt as if he thought himself above the rest. Deidara was painfully aware that Itachi had good reason for people to listen to him whenever he felt the peasants were worthy enough to hear the grace of his voice, the power behind the man could crumble anyone at the right moment. To make it worse, his shared experience with Kisame always made it so missions went about a lot smoother than Deidara’s own due to an obvious ocular advantage and the intimidating factor of the shark nin and it granted him attention and respect nearly immediately. But did he have to flaunt it? No. And in his own, irritating and frustrating Uchiha Itachi way, he did. 

Deidara’s jaw clicked. He softly rubbed the side of his face to soothe the painful sensation as his train of thought made his anger rise higher.

He still remembered their very first meeting. Some would claim Deidara hardly stopped thinking about it, intentions muddled to anyone who overheard how much he hated the guy. The loathsome prick had been so smooth about it too... one second, Deidara was confident his skills as a bomber and a rogue were unmatched enough to send any foe flying, the next he was already caught and convinced. It hadn’t even taken him long before accomplishing his task: to successfully recruit the ever elusive, ever explosive, artist of the detonating clay. There had been so many who tried in the past that ended up as charred remains, always a decent distance away while he laughed and reveled in the way the fire had come together in one beautiful climax of sparks and smoke. Thinking back on all his previous victims, his skin tingled at the memory of the scent of burned skin.

But Itachi had escaped that fate, and it was so unbearably annoying that it made Deidara’s jaw click again. He was still very much angry about it, reeling in hatred and disgust that he’d fallen for his Sharingan. Every moment he breathed was a nightmare that he felt he hadn’t been good enough to beat. He didn’t want to look at him after that day, rarely ever indulged himself in thinking about it even because it always made the strangest emotions bubble up to the surface that left him confused about how he really felt about his capture. What he wanted to worry about was grasping the perfect moment.

But when the perfect moment had finally come, fight ongoing below and himself safely in mid-air above, he couldn’t do it. He had him in his sights, determined to excuse his planned murder with a mistake of the wind that send his clay creations flying in a different direction so he could end Itachi’s existence. Standing right above him, the more skilled shinobi taking down opponents like they were nothing, Deidara experienced hesitation for the first time and couldn’t go through with any of it.

Then the rains began.

Deidara had become so enamored with his prey that he’d missed the obvious signs of a storm. The moon had carried a ring around it not that many nights ago, how could he have been so blind? The clay immediately soaked up the moisture, the mixture not ready to combat the weather, and his own life suddenly hung in the balance. Forget his hatred, he had to live long enough to see the guy dead to begin with. Deidara had gotten panicked, attempting to reach safety as the clay began to detach itself from its main form and fall on the floor with clouds of smoke and flames. 

Hair soaked as the water suddenly hammered down with a strength no shinobi would ever hold, all he could think about was when he’d nearly drowned. Skinny arms outstretched upwards, high into heaven, as he pawed uselessly for something to save him. But the currents cared not for his life, their own plans and devices more important than the fly who suddenly found itself caught in a spider’s web, and he sunk down below. He didn’t have much of a memory of _where_ such an event had happened, or _how_ he even managed to catch himself in such a stupid situation as a child, but the one thing that did make an impact was the loud thunder and the sharp lightning not that far in the distance.

He kept seeing it as if it was happening right in front of himself, reliving it all over again as he matched the falling drops of rain tumbling back down onto the world. Fully expecting a cracked skull, Deidara had been immensely surprised to crash against another body and kept his head on his shoulders instead. The impact knocked him out of his flashbacks and he met the pained, sharingan eyes of Itachi as the man grunted and breathed in slowly to ease off the ache of saving the blonde’s ass.

Deidara still didn’t know what to think of that. He did know that he hated him even more for what had happened later that night and how easily it turned out for him to forget reality, soft whispers easily dizzying him until he was reduced to putty in Itachi’s hands. It really was that easy for him... he didn’t need to trap him in a genjutsu, he didn’t even need to coerce him. Deidara willingly gave him access to his most intimate self, caution be damned, and let his impulse take the lead. 

A small shiver creeped up his spine just then, and Deidara glared into the sky. Even now, it still made him weak. Frankly, it was...embarrassing. All that was left was for Itachi to snap his fingers and Deidara knew he’d bite, running at the smallest possible chance to repeat a certain series of events that led him underneath his full focus and attention. And he *hated* him for it. He hated him so goddamn much that every single time he saw his face, he turned on his heel and chewed ice until the urge to murder was fizzled down to a more manageable size. 

“Tch... asshole...” Deidara adjusted his footing on his clay bird, following the directions he’d been given to meet with other members. He hadn’t been told the purpose, but it didn’t concern him as they usually instructed each other with code words and coordinates rather than specifics. He was just grateful that he was a good distance up in the sky, not enough to make his ears ring but enough so travelers mistook him easily for a bird of prey on its course, and hardly had to worry about where his thoughts would take him.

He silently instructed the bird to begin its descent. The sun was shining, hot and heavy, as midday was just approaching. The summer wasn’t over just yet, something he appreciated, and he quickly found a small shady spot to land and poof away his transportation. A cave not far from there welcomed him with cool air once he was inside. He ran his hand along the rocks while he made his way deeper into its complex caverns. Finding the room he had been indicated to reach, his visible eye opened wide when the only other person in the vast empty space was none other than the object of his obsession.

“You’re late.”

“Hn...” Deidara replied, once again starting his game of refusing to acknowledge Itachi at all. Maybe he had gotten a little carried away.

“You realize I shouldn’t have to still be here,” Itachi noted, leaning casually against the rock wall with his arm laid against the zipper of his cloak. He idly scratched at his darkened nails and Deidara had to force himself to stop noticing small, stupid little things like that.

“Well, then, why are you here, yeah?”

“Because you’re late. And now I’m stuck with you.”

“Cry me a river.”

The blonde rolled his eyes at a collection of rocks by the other’s feet. The only light in the room were a few torches that would end up dying on their own eventually, but it was more than enough for him to catch the tail end of a smirk as he lost another fight against himself and tried to look again. 

“If you’re so upset at being stuck with me,” Deidara pressed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Then you can just leave me alone. I don’t have time to spare for assholes to weigh me down, hn.”

“I didn’t say I was upset about it,” Itachi calmly replied, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards the exit.

It was unexpected to hear, since Deidara wanted nothing but to leave and finish whatever this job was. He’d been happily enjoying his alone time, still processing and mourning the death of Sasori while relishing in a needed distance from Tobi, when he had to cut it short and get moving. He definitely preferred to get back to it before he was admonished for taking his time and having to get back to life with his insufferable little brat, but Itachi didn’t look like he was going to offer the information out of the kindness of his own heart. Typical.

“Are you going to tell me what I missed, or am I going to have to beat the shit out of you for you to tell me, hn?” He snapped, growing more impatient. Itachi didn’t seem bothered or moved by his tone, continuing the lax and nonchalant stride until he came up to his colleague. Deidara quickly glanced at him before dropping his gaze again, trying his best to stop his jaw from clicking but failed miserably. It was giving him a damned headache, the nasty habit. 

“You’re grinding your teeth again,” Itachi said. 

“Yeah, I know, don’t—wait, again? How would you know I do that?”

Itachi just barely cocked his head to the side, face still stoic, but the message was clear. Deidara didn’t...remember doing that back then, he only really does it when he’s irritated and, well, he definitely didn’t spend a lot of time irritated that night. Confusion obvious on his face, Deidara stuttered, “I’ve never done it around you before.”

“You have,” Itachi clarified, “Before we both split up again. You flipped me off, glared at me, and clicked your teeth together while storming off.”

Deidara frowned, annoyed, “You had your back turned.”

Itachi shrugged and continued up the cave with Deidara in tow. Just outside, the wind picked up nicely but it hardly made a difference as the searing sun hit him again so soon. Deidara would never understand the use of heavy, black cloaks...

“Alright, so, are you going to tell me _now_ , yeah?”

“Hm,” Itachi ignored his question, “You should check that clicking out.”

“Oh, thank you, I never would have thought of that before in my entire life by myself. It’s just stress, yeah, get off my back.”

“It’s not, your entire jaw has trouble moving, and I can tell you’re in more pain than you want to admit. If you don’t do something about it now, you’ll likely have trouble eating as well.”

“There’s no fucking way you’d know I have trouble moving my fucking mouth, yeah, how’d you figure that out? Did you creep on me when I wasn’t looking, hn? Sharingan my ass?”

“No, you just kiss weird.”

Deidara’s mouth hung open. Oh, he was going to absolutely demolish his entire -existence.-

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, yeah? First you psychoanalyze me with some astraphobia—“ the way Itachi’s eyebrows raised at the word made Deidara wonder if he thought him smart enough to know the terms. His jaw clicked harder, “Next you put me in some false sense of security to take advantage of me, and now you’re diagnosing me with—“

“Temporomandibular disorder, perhaps. I’m not a medic nor a doctor, but it fits.”

Deidara clenched his mouth so hard he definitely couldn’t ignore the pain, but he would _not_ wince in his presence. The nerve. The absolute -nerve- of the guy, hardly exchanging any words and already picking apart at what was wrong with Deidara. His hands were fisted at his sides, aching to deal some damage, but Deidara was smart enough to know that should he start that fight he wouldn’t be able to end it as the winner. He was impulsive, but not impulsive enough to dig his own grave a second time that month. 

“That’s _fantastic_ , yeah,” he spoke through gritted teeth, forcing a smile, “I’m so glad to have a friend like you that _supports_ me through this tough time. Just answer me, why would you care?”

Itachi freely smirked now, and Deidara couldn’t help the way his chest suddenly ached. 

“Because... I definitely would like to kiss you again. Properly.”

Deidara dragged his fingers down his face in frustrated desperation. Now he got it. There was never any meeting, nothing to follow through with. Even worse, there was no proper reason to have interrupted the small freedom he’d had all year. He’d stupidly, yet again, allowed himself to get caught up in another web cast by the loathsome Uchiha, all for a pitiful attempt at flirting. He wanted to scream, but what for?

“I come all the way here for _this_?” Deidara asked him, his tone rising, “I was about to shit myself for actually being late, yeah, this is completely unnecessary.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Itachi turned to face him properly, that damned hand peeking through the middle of his cloak still picking at his own fingernails, “I’m fully aware all I had to do was snap my fingers and you’d come to me. Eager, willing, and hopeful for just the smallest proof that I didn’t just use you and toss you away.”

Deidara didn’t even notice Itachi was now stalking towards him. He’d started to take steps backwards automatically, shying away from the taller man as the world suddenly seemed to shrink around them. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his forehead, and he had to take a moment to realize it had nothing to do with the heat. 

“You’re lying,” Deidara retorted pathetically, “That’s a load of bullshit.”

“You’re the one that admitted it. You talk in your sleep.”

Deidara scoffed, “Oh, so now you’re watching me in my _sleep_? You are a goddamn creep.”

“I don’t,” Itachi shook his head sideways, continuing his approach until Deidara’s back met the outside wall of the cave, “but Tobi does. And Tobi likes to share.”

Of course the little weirdo watches him. Of-fucking-course he’s listened to what he says. He was going to beat him down to a pulp next time he saw him, make sure he was a bruised, broken, bloody disaster for this. Deidara knew he talked in his sleep, especially if something had bothered him enough to dream, but he was sure he’d gotten it under control after joining Akatsuki. Sasori never mentioned anything about it, and they’d spent so many nights in close quarters that it’s impossible for him to have missed it. Did it stop and start up again? He couldn’t ask Sasori now either. Deidara’s mind was turning into a mixture of anger and embarrassment, whirling around wildly until his mouth made a particularly loud click and he whined. 

Before he could react, insult at the ready to defend his right to feel pain if he damn well pleased, Itachi grabbed him at the throat. Pressing him lightly against the wall, Itachi didn’t squeeze or tighten his grip, simply letting the hold send his message. Deidara received it very loud and clear, eyes wide and mouth hung slightly agape as his brain suddenly malfunctioned and stopped thinking. He could feel Itachi’s slender fingers wrapped tightly around his neck and his thumb caress just under his ear.

“Uhm...” Deidara found it hard to swallow, “Didn’t... you do this to your brother once? Hah...yeah.”

Itachi didn’t react, smirk completely gone as if he’d never even emoted anything other than a stoic face in the first place. Deidara felt so tense under his look that he very nearly apologized for what he’d said, nervously wondering if that might have upset him. He blinked a few times, trying to get his focus back after realizing what he’d just thought. What was he on? Was this another genjutsu? He couldn’t tell, Itachi hadn’t dropped the sharingan since he’d seen him down in the caverns below, but there wasn’t any real reason to warp his reality right now. Unless he really was that sick of a man, but where’s the benefit? Why the hell did he suddenly want to beg forgiveness for something he’d normally say to the guy without a second thought?

“Here’s what we are going to do...” Itachi spoke softly, never increasing the strength of his grip but refusing to let go. For whatever odd reason, Deidara didn’t make an attempt to remove his hand, falling victim to the sparks of lightning shooting up inside his body. “Together, we are going to find someone to help you.”

“Y-yeah...”

“Once you’re better, whenever that is, we’ll tackle that phobia. Also together. You can’t lose your grip during a storm again, you would expose yourself too much and you’re an important asset to the organization.”

“Y-...Yeah, okay,” Deidara blinked, confused, but his brain still refused to form a coherent thought.

“One step at a time. Agreed?” Itachi waited until Deidara nodded before letting go of his throat. It seemed to spur Deidara back to reality, immediately glaring at the Uchiha. Unsure of what had just happened, as if a switch was ticked in his head and he relinquished control, it freaked him out and he instinctively jumped far from Itachi and crouched. What...the fuck just happened? Why didn’t he move? And why, out of everything, did he like it?

Itachi hardly reacted apart from his usual hum, turning on his heel and away from the cave. “Don’t make me hunt you down,” Itachi threatened, turning over his shoulder and looking into Deidara’s eyes. Deidara shrunk down a little further, “You’ll fucking have to if you’re serious about this, yeah. Nobody touches my fucking mouth.”

Itachi turned his head away again, “Nobody except me, apparently. Among other things.” 

He didn’t say a goodbye as he walked into the small forest nearby. Deidara watched him like a hawk, each slow step of his marked by him carefully until he couldn’t make him out anymore. Deidara stood himself up straight and waited just a few minutes longer until he finally relaxed when he deemed it had been a safe distance. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and collapsed onto his knees, hands holding himself up from hitting his head against the dirt. 

That... irritating, loathsome freak. Deidara was right, he did in fact go around expecting people to fold to his will. He’d just proven it, with how confident he’d been as he went ahead and did whatever **that** was. He couldn’t get the feeling of his hands away from his skin, the warmth of his body from the day sticking to him so bad he immediately missed it when he let go and the area was left to cool. He was so fucking entitled, wasn’t he? To Deidara’s health, his existence, his body even—Deidara refused to acknowledge that he very much willingly just gave him access to all three, deciding to continue raging on the man for the sake of his own emotions. 

He dragged his nails in the earth, grabbing the little mound tight in his hand before throwing it in front of himself. It scattered, dust and small rocks flying alongside the dirt, and he pushed himself to sit back on his heels. 

This was so fucked up. It made him question nearly everything, from how he’d felt when they first met to his own murderous intent. He’d been denying it, a small part of him had been aware of the entire thing, but seeing him walk away and having to keep himself still so he wouldn’t run after him confirmed his dreaded suspicions. Deidara was dying to fight him more, to insult him and shout. Anything to ruffle his feathers enough so he would react, get angry, get upset, anything just to get him to grip his throat again. The image alone made his skin tingle again, more than anything else had up to that point in his life. At the very least, he could still excuse that as anger and spite translating as some weird kind of lust, but out of everything there was one thing he couldn’t excuse any longer.

He couldn’t fucking wait until Uchiha Itachi snapped his fingers so Deidara had the chance to come running. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my lifeblood, so if you like where this is going let me know! <3


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